“Well,” Millie hesitated, clutching her worn resume. “I grew up in Brooklyn. I’ve done housework for other families, and I’m very good with kids…” She glanced around for signs of pets, “…and animals, too.”

Nina smiled, her lips tight. “Brooklyn! We’re practically neighbors. Isn’t that wonderful?”

Millie nodded, even though she couldn’t be farther from Nina’s world of privilege. The woman’s perfectly tailored cream blouse and silk skirt screamed money. Millie, in contrast, had chosen thrift store clothes to appear competent but non-threatening.

As the interview progressed, Nina’s enthusiasm grew. The position offered more money than Millie could dream of, along with room and board. When Nina mentioned it was a live-in job, Millie kept her composure, though relief flooded her.

“Yes, I know,” she said, her voice steady.

“Great!” Nina clapped her hands. “Let me show you the house.”

The tour was overwhelming: marble floors, chandeliers, and a home theater with stadium seating. Yet, when they climbed the narrow, creaking staircase to the attic, Millie felt a chill.